Well, Life is Hard
by JeeGee
Summary: Father opts to get his revenge. Based off of a fic I read on here! Rape,incest,OOC possibly...


**Okay this is based off of a story I read on here and they never finished! :( This is just my own little version! So I haven't really watched KND in years, and I barely remember the movie, so everyone is probably OOC. Sorry if I get any facts wrong. Yes, I know Father is Nigel's uncle too.**

Benedict Uno strummed his fingers across his desk. The Kids Next Door had beaten him so many times before. Obliterating those brats for the sake of promoting adulthood was not the only reason he wanted the Kids Next Door gone. Of course, the fact that the kids were so persistent about experiencing the "wonders of childhood" while he was never able to made him livid. The Kids Next Door, although the children were intelligent, were still not mature enough to grasp the main problems and disgust of the real world.

Benedict remembered the horrible and continuous abuse he suffered at the hands of Grandfather. Although the physical abuse was awful in itself, Benedict could not bare to bring up the memories of the sexua-.

Benedict gagged. His heartbeat sped up, and he twitched his fingers. He didn't want to bring back the awful memories. He shivered when he felt his father's ghostly fingers strum up and down his spine. He bit his lip when Grandfather made passes throughout the day, squeezing his shoulder over and over again until it bruised. Father bit his lower lip so hard it drew blood.

He swore he would never end up like his father, but he could not control his thoughts or urges any longer. The fact that he never abused his own children surprised even himself. And any sense of self control was soon gone.

* * *

Although Father was smart, he was definitely not the most intelligent man around. And he was angry!-leaving him also with a fogged mind and a fatigued body running on pure adrenaline.

It was a cool night. The KND were investigating an urgent call from a so called werewolf that Father had supposedly let loose to only target Kids Next Door operatives.

Father paced around excitingly. He paused a few times to tap his foot, fix his coiffed hair or glance at the clock.

Every large and successful organization had a mastermind, the brains, and those brains were always the key to destroy it. That brain, Nigel Uno, was in the front of the group as Sector V entered the Delightful Mansion.

The kids soon split up. Father could hear a pair of footsteps crescendo, and he flung himself onto the child, dragging him into the other room.

Father kicked the squirming figure below him in the stomach, and took a dirty sock, blindly reaching around as he stuffed the cloth into the child's mouth.

"You little brat," Father scoffed with hate. He felt around his victim's bottom. The man grumbled. "The fact that you surely believe you children can ever stop me makes me laugh." His voice became louder. "This is the end, Mr. Uno! I'm willing to do whatever it takes to bring you and your little organization down!"

Father's victim did not expect what was going to happen next. Father's prey was unprepared for the excruciating pain. Asshole tightening as Father continued to slam into his victim, and with every thrust the bottom felt number.

"You think you can stop me!" Father roared. "I want you to suffer, brat," Father hissed. "I want to make you miserable!" He groaned. "Shit." The man was close to finished when he heard a whimper below him, and he recoiled in horror. He felt around for the light, and flipped the switch.

He did not expect Numbuh Five to be shaking below him, tears sticking to her cheeks.

Father's ear perked up upon hearing multiple pairs of footsteps again. He grabbed a drawer, pushing it. Before Numbuh Five could react, the poor girl was overwhelmed by the shadow of the drawer before it compressed her skull and her head exploded. Father could hear the crack of her skull bursting.

Father then quickly threw himself out the first-story window. The kids ran in after him, before they stopped, motionless at the sight of their friend under the heavy weight of the drawer.

"N-Numbuh Five?" Nigel whispered.

Numbuh Two and Numbuh Four ran up to the drawer and struggled before lifting it up.

Numbuh Three gasped, her eyes stinging with tears. Her and the rest of the kid's hearts stopped, and their minds not in sync with the sight before them. Their former peer's skull was crushed, gray brains and blood pooled over what was left of her face and the back of her head. One of her eyes was flattened to a white puddle next to her, and the other was still hanging by a ripped tendon. Her nose was completely compressed into the remainder of her face. Her shirt was ruffled up to reveal her underwear by her ankles, and her chest, breast bones broken, was bleeding. So was her vagina.

Numbuh Three was hyperventilating. "No," she whimpered, covering her eyes as she crumbled to the floor. Hoagie gently grabbed her and lead her out of the room.

Numbuh One and Numbuh Four were silent, until Wallabee spoke. "I never knew Father would do something so... terrible." Numbuh Four was unable to find the right words, yet his loathing was evident. He shook his head, sniffling before wiping the tears from his eyes. "I'm going to kill the bastard!"

"No," Nigel replied firmly. "We have to let the adults handle this one."

"What?!" Wallabee cried. "Are you crazy? I'll kill him myself! I'll rip his lungs out and watch him crumble! I'll-!"

"We can't," Nigel said. "We've never been confronted with the death of an operative. This is clearly too much for even us to handle. Father has gone completely insane."

"What's the matter with you?!" Numbuh Four shouted. "Don't you care for Numbuh Five at all? She's dead, and it's all 'cause of that stupid, worthless f-fucker's fault!" Wallabee started to tear up again.

"What do you think?" Nigel suddenly retorted. "Of course I want to avenge her just as much as you do," Nigel started to cry, "but you know we can't just handle this. We have to go to the police. They have to tell Abigail's family."


End file.
